by Mike Jurist
Comet X was now a mere shining point in the visor screen, catapulting straight for the somber glow of the great red spot. Closer, closer, ever closer!
"How far are we away, Sparks?" demanded Kerry. "One million, two hundred and thirty thousand miles."
"I hope that's enough. God knows what will happen when that flow of pure energy smashes into Jupiter!"
"Oh!" exclaimed Sally. "Then how about Ganymede? That's only 664,000 miles away."
"I think they'll be safe," Kerry said. "Luckily, it's now on the far side of Jupiter. The main effect will be on this side."
They hung breathless at the observation port. They were going away fast; but would it be fast enough?
Closer, ever closer!
Then the tiny visitor from another universe vanished, seemed swallowed up in the giant maw.
Instinctively the observers shuddered away from the glassite port. The seconds ticked off.
There was a blinding flash of light, a spurt of furious, boiling matter. Out into space from the surface of the tortured giant it sped, as though it came in vengeful pursuit of the fleeing ship. The next instant the Flash rocked and reeled like a chip in the grip of a tornado. The radiation counters clicked like mad. The controls wrenched from Jem's hands and he was thrown to the deck. Staggering drunkenly, Kerry forced his way to his side, grabbed the rocket levers.
Then the tossing subsided, and Jem came ruefully to his feet, rubbing the side of his head. "That was a close call!" he husked.
To their rear, Jupiter seemed in convulsion. The great red spot had disappeared; in its place was a glowing circle of brilliant white.
Old Simeon said regretfully: "That's the end of Comet X." But Kerry, intent upon that blazing, bubbling center, said in a queer, strained voice. "It may be the beginning of Jupiter."
"Eh? What do you mean?"
"No ordinary matter can disrupt that core of energy. It's going to keep working away, perhaps forever, within the heart of Jupiter. It will transform the very constitution of the planet. It may well be that the transformation will be such as to make Jupiter a place for living beings, for civilization. In that case, we've added a huge new world to the System."
"How long d' ye think that'll take?" asked Simeon eagerly. "Who knows? It might be a hundred thousand years, or a million."
"Huh!" Kenton was manifestly disappointed. He sighed.
"An' I thought we'd have a new world to take over. What an opportunity that would have been!"
Kerry laughed. "Don't you think you have enough right now?"
"My boy," said old Simeon sententiously, "no man ever has enough. And that reminds me. How do we divide up what we managed to take out?" His face brightened. "After all, those three cubes of energy must be worth as much as my whole present fortune."
"No doubt," observed Kerry. He bad a strange expression on his face. "I'm turning one over for public use. I'm keeping one for myself. I'm dividing the avails of the third among the crew—and Sally."
"Hey! How about my share?" sputtered the old man. "Yours?" Kerry smiled gently. "You have no share."
"You promised me as much as the others," howled Simeon.
"It was a contract. I have witnesses—"
"Of course there was a contract, and I never go back on m word."
"Then what the devil do you mean I have no share?"
"I'll quote you my exact words. I said I'd give you one-twentieth of everything we take out from now on. From now on! But we didn't take out anything else. Your share, my dear Mr. Kenton, is unfortunately now a part of Jupiter."
Old Fireball shook his fist, danced in rage. "Why, you blathering cross-doubler; you—"
"There you go murdering our poor language again, dad, said Sally severely. "Kerry is quoting the contract accurately.
And a contract is a contract, isn't it. I've heard you say that a hundred times."
Simeon glared at his dutiful daughter. "I've been hornswoggled again!"
"No doubt about it. But I'll case the pain. I'll give you that effigy we brought from the comet. There may be something immensely valuable inside."
His face cleared. "Now that's a good girl!" he cried eagerly. "Let's open it at once."
They brought it out, with its strange, lovely features incised on the unknown metal. They examined it carefully, searching every inch of its seemingly seamless surface until they found a tiny knob. On pressure, the case swung noiselessly open.
A gasp of wonder rose from everyone. Inside, as though asleep, was a being. A being not of this universe; with infinitely delicate features, yet imbued with an expression of supernal majesty and intellect.
Sally was frankly crying. "The last of his race! What a glorious civilization it must have been."
"Perhaps," said Kerry gently, "his descendants still exist in some distant universe. Perhaps they have gone on to even more glorious things."
But old Simeon was rubbing his hands. "'This is priceless!" he crowed. "The Commission will pay anything I name for this."
But even as he spoke, the body began to change. The colors coarsened, the features ran together and turned a dirty brown. Then, without warning, the whole thing collapsed into a pile of dust.
"Hey!" yelled Kenton in alarm.
Kerry said: "It's the air. I've heard of things like this happening to mummies removed from their vaults on Earth."
Old Fireball fell back weakly. "Hornswoggled again!" be groaned.
"I'm sorry, dad," said Sally remorsefully.
The old man straightened up. "Don't you be sorry for me," be snapped. "Kerry, my boy," he said impressively. "I'm offering you a full partnership in Kenton Space Enterprises, Unlimited."
"What's the catch?"
“Who said there was a catch?" glared Simeon. Then he chuckled. "Naturally, I've got tremendous assets. You're to put in your cube of energy."
"Done!"
"Now you're showing sense, my boy."
"But on one condition."
"Eh, what's that?"
Kerry turned to Sally, said gravely: "That your daughter marry me."
"You're hornswoggled again, dad," said Sally blithely. Then she said to Kerry: "Done! But remember," she warned, "I'm no asset; I'm a terrific liability. Ask dad, he knows!"
"I'll take my chances on that," he said; and took her into his arms.